The Snore Of A Bore Poem by John Sensele

I dreamt I said, ‘Hullo, Fellow' on her pink plumage pillow
When from my blue sky grew and flew a sentimental swallow
That told me to fold my arms and grow calm because it didn't matter anymore
As the etiquette of entire episode chose to metamorphose into a sappy snore.

I dreamt life no longer brought, caught or taught strident strife
When for the umpteenth time a series of memories drew me to my lost life
Taken away from my puny pay on a gray Wintry Wednesday
Leaving my heart bleeding, begging and weeping every day.

I dreamt I lost my post as teacher to become a preacher
When a sermon I delivered reminded me I wasn't a true blue bleacher
Who in the twinkling of an eye could turn ebony black into snow white
Praying hard for God to restore a sinner's succor and salvation right.

I dreamt sanity and vanity from my mind vowed to quit
When by force of booze I succeeded in losing my wit
Indulging instead the bedstead of lampoon language
That infiltrated and integrated every fabric of my every message.